I lowered the microphone.
Mara remained motionless.
One of her bridesmaids leaned toward her.
“Who is Elena Maris?”
The microphone was still live.
The question went through the speakers.
Several guests laughed, not cruelly, but from sheer disbelief at the absurdity of the situation.
Mara’s cheeks flushed.
Adrian stepped closer.
“I suppose that announcement is mine to make soon,” he said.
“Though perhaps not tonight.”
He glanced at me apologetically.
I understood what he meant.
My contract was not the problem.
The company had simply planned the public announcement carefully.
He had no intention of turning someone else’s wedding into an opera press conference.
Mara, however, had finally connected the pieces.
“You work for the Royal Meridian?” she asked me.
I handed the microphone to the stunned bandleader.
“Yes.”
“In production?”
“Sometimes that was easier to say.”
Her face tightened.
“What does that mean?”
Adrian answered before I could.
“It means Ms.
Maris will be leading our upcoming production.”
The pianist smiled down at the keys.
Daniel stared at me.
“Leading?”
“As soprano lead,” Adrian said.
My aunt made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a laugh.
Mara looked at the envelope in Adrian’s hand.
“What’s that?”
He looked down as though he had forgotten he was holding it.
“A personal note for Lena.
Nothing anyone else needs to see.”
He handed it to me.
That somehow made things worse for Mara.
She had wanted a public document, some piece of paper she could challenge, perhaps because paper could be called fake.
Instead, Adrian treated the proof as so ordinary that it required no defense.
Mara looked around at her guests.
I watched her realize that the videographer’s camera was still recording.
Her eyes landed on the blinking red light.
“Turn that off,” she said.
The videographer hesitated.
“You told me to keep rolling through all the speeches.”
“Turn it off.”
Her voice was sharper now.
He lowered the camera.
Daniel stepped toward me.
“Lena, why didn’t you tell us?”
There was no accusation in his voice, only hurt and amazement.
I looked at him.
“Because I wanted to tell you when it was mine to tell.”
His eyes dropped.
